


Who finds a friend finds a thesaurus

by laughingpineapple



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Crossword Puzzles, Gen, Unexpected Friendship Of Sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22703473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingpineapple/pseuds/laughingpineapple
Summary: Words, words, words, kind words and Albert’s not in a hurry anymore.
Relationships: Lucy Moran & Albert Rosenfield
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Who finds a friend finds a thesaurus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sinking Beatrice (Beatrice_Sank)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatrice_Sank/gifts).



This is one of the mysteries of the woods – the mysteries of Twin Peaks. One of the small ones. It exists around the entrance to the Sheriff’s Department, curled in the corners, around the phone cord, buzzing with its own tender electrical currents, inscrutable to those who look for the secrets of the town.

It went like this, because it is in the moments of our greatest vulnerability that the unexpected can seep in, outside the natural order of our lives: Hawk and the Preston girl had just walked inside the station holding a drunk Albert Rosenfield. Neither of them a veritable champion of empathy, they stood by the entrance, unsure of what to do as Albert shook them off to go lean on the receptionist’s desk. Drunk on beer or just his sadness, hard for Lucy to say from her seat behind the glass. Maybe drunk on his own words, she mused as he went on and on about how his colleagues, his _friends,_ had always left him behind. Four decades of his life he’d sacrificed to his job and for all those promises of truth and justice? Those breakthroughs made late at night with tired eyes on tired computers, following empty leads, being sent round and round in circles far away from the center. They never told him. All this time, they never told him. The one thing that mattered! Oh they told him the history and the redacted history and the vintage of all the bottles in the private cellars, all but the one thing. And who knows what else.

So Lucy spoke up, because she could relate to that. And when she began to speak, Hawk gestured to the Preston girl to put plugs in her ears and/or split, and split they did, because, again, neither of them would know rude if it punched them on the nose. Not that Ben Horne, who is also rude, did not try to punch Hawk on the nose once, but he ducked, and that’s a different story. Anyway. It was the week before the birthday of Maggie Brown, the dispatcher, in the room at the end of the corridor, radio station with the photo of her nephew taped on? You’ll know her because she is the best at fixing telephones. She feels the waves. You feel that about her. So it was going to be her birthday soon and the whole department was organizing a party. Everyone! Even that good-for-nothing Chad who at least brought the beers. Except, they didn’t tell Lucy. When it’s your birthday and they don’t tell you about the party, you feel like something’s missing but in the end it’s a surprise that fills that emptiness. When it’s someone else… even if they apologize later, saying they didn’t want to risk her spilling the beans, it stays empty. Inside.

And Albert, who in that moment wanted to listen to anything except for his own thoughts, let her speak. He closed his mouth and paid attention, even when the topic turned from this juxtaposition of lived experiences (left out for left out, the connection was not unreasonable, if one was feeling generous) to her aunt, who had a porcelain cat which was also empty inside, and Albert would never guess what had ended up in there…

It was a proverbial trip and a half – incidentally, a trip and a half was exactly how far away from himself he wanted to be, so that worked well enough, all in all, in a pinch. He’d hitched worse rides. As the tale went on and on, he could only stare with his mouth slightly agape.

All he said, eventually, was: “Pauciloquent.”

He explained himself: “Five across, on the paper. Pauciloquent. That’s p-a-u-c-i-l-o-q-u-e-n-t which might as well be a made-up word in this room since nobody in their right mind would say it concerns either you or I.”

She followed the clues on the newspaper crossword, counting down with her finger until she found five across. “Five across. Twelve letters. Oh, here’s the clue: _uttering a few words, brief in speech_ ,” she read out. “But I am not sure about the _N_ , it comes from… sixteen down, the clue is _small shoot growing from the root_ _of_...”

He raised a hand to stop her rambling – there are limits. The human experience he could listen to; Hicksville Daily’s crossword extravaganza was another matter altogether. Besides, he could read well enough upside-down, as he demonstrated concluding sixteen down’s clue in a formal radio announcer’s voice. This left an impression on Lucy, who thought him some sort of federal wizard.

“Nine across…?”

This was the beginning of the mystery that, to this day, haunts the entrance of the Sheriff’s Department, sparkling with the energy of a secret connection between unexpected people, and the world’s a little better for that. Frank came the closest to finding out about it all, walking by as Lucy was on the phone, listing off clues and their expected number of letters, writing down all answers in a hurry. But later Lucy only admitted to getting a little help from Mister Thesaurus on the phone now and then, it’s not like the paper can disqualify her. She knew what was precious and kept that weird little friendship close to her heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Chocobox!!! About the title - I was familiar with the set phrase "Who finds a friend, finds a treasure." I have since been informed that it is not at all widespread, but by then I was too attached to my cutesy title...


End file.
